


How Many Freckles?

by Elltaire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-01-23 22:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1581404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elltaire/pseuds/Elltaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It may be early in the morning and it may the start of a 4 hour drive and the car may be a tad to cramped for the four of them but Enjolras has a lot of freckles</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Early Morning car rides

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah.. I don't know how to write this properly and use the layout style other people do so enjoy some paragraphs, sorry

Grantaire loved long car journeys, to tip his head back against the head rest and feel the hum of the engine mix with the texture of the road as it vibrated through his curls to the base of his skull. You found out who truly liked you on car journeys. People would be comfortable or manic, comfortable breaths at the end of interesting conversations verses the manic babbling of someone you're not close to desperately trying to stall an inevitable silence. But today he was with friends, comfortable despite the slightly cramped environment. 

Combeferre was driving, as usual, being the most awake at this time in the morning usually meant you were branded the designated driver. He was also the most sensible out of the four in the car. Courf sat slumped in the passenger seat, still sulking in between texting. The Amis pretended not to know who was causing the incessant blaring of Courf's phone, but the fresh love bite Grantaire could see on the back of his neck through the gap in the headrest, coupled with him smelling like a certain's lady's perfume and a certain puppy's body wash some mornings, made it not too hard for everyone to guess. Still, they waited in happy silence until the three of them were ready to announce the news. Luckily Combeferre had insisted on everyone turning their phones on vibrate before entering the vehicle, using a look that made even Enjolras back down, so only the occasional faint buzzing could be heard though Courf's jeans. 

"You're not still sulking are you?" Grantaire said, grinning as he poked the bright purple mark on Courf's neck.  
"Get off!" Courf tried to slap his hand away, catching his hand on the metal bar of the headrest and swearing as Grantaire fell back against his seat laughing.  
"Guys, come on." Combeferre hissed softly from the drivers seat, turning slightly to fix Grantaire with a half disapproving stare from the driver's mirror. "A little quieter." He chided raising an eyebrow at Grantaire, a smile still tugged at the corner of his lips as he swatted Courf's knee.  
"Sorry Ferre," Grantaire mouthed, leaning forward to put a hand across his friend's mouth before he started swearing again.  
"How are you still sulking? It's been over an hour now." Combeferre asked, voice only a little louder than it had been a moment ago. Courf quickly licked Grantaire's palm, making him remove it quickly by wiping it on Courf's hair on the retreat,  
"You know full well why in sulking, I was meant to join you guys for the rally's start, not to get up at half seven to go set up with you, you promised!"  
"You know full well we needed the help to set up after Feuilly had to take that extra shift and you're our best friend." Ferre replied soothingly, the thunder visibly lessening on his best friends face as he did.  
"I know you wanted to spend the morning "alone"," Grantaire chimed in, air quotes out in force, "and "lying in", "alone"." Courf turned in his seat to scowl but Grantaire quickly carried on. "But if you stop sulking for the rest of today, I'll let you skip our night out this week since it coincides with certain peoples' days off."  
"Deal!" Courf practically yelled, earning a glare from the driver and a slap to the side of the head from the back seat. A yawn and a rustle of fabric caused all three to freeze, Grantaire looked over to the other seat to see Enjolras lift his head, blink sleepily, before settling back down against the seat.  
"Jesus Christ, you nearly woke him," Combeferre whispered to Courf, "Grantaire, can you..."  
"I got it, don't worry." He pulled out his belt a little, leaning over to pull a red jumper out of the footwell where Enjolras's not quite rising had dumped it. Grantaire brushed it off and tucked it back where it was, brushing a few golden curls out of the way first. He looked up and saw Combeferre concentrating on the road and Courf, just out of the arms in surrender defensive pose in fear of Ferre's wrath, slipping in his headphones. While neither of them where looking, he tucked one of the wayward curls behind Enjolras's ear, stroking his thumb gently along his cheekbone and savouring the feeling of sleeping Enjolras leaning into his palm as he did. Dreaming that the outcome would be the same if he did that any other time. He held only for a few seconds before leaning back, tucking Combeferre's dark blue coat back around Enjolras's curled legs before curling against his own seat, head against the window so the vibrations kept him grounded while he stared at an angel. It had been hell convincing Enjolras into the backseat of the car, let alone calming him down enough to sleep. There was always fire in him on a rally day and Grantaire loved it, but fire made it very hard to make their fearless leader do anything, coupled with 3 essays leaving him running on less than an hours sleep? Enjolras is stubborn to say the least. 

In order to get Enjolras into the back, someone had to get in the front first. Courf had ended up running down two flights of stairs the second he heard Enjolras get out of the shower. He'd been running so fast that he'd almost fallen down the building's front steps, sending his phone flying, hitting Grantaire square in the chest as he leant against the car bonnet. This wasn't the first time this had happened and Grantaire had developed reflexes after the second time Courf had had to replace the screen. Courf scrambled into the passenger side, calling thanks and apologies to Grantaire, as the sound of an still damp angry Enjolras shouting from the apartment balcony 2 floors up finally reached them. When he finally got ready and down the stairs, Enjolras practically threw a strop on the pavement and it took the combination of Ferre's gentle mothering and Grantaire's coaxing from the backseat to make him get in. Enjolras could not resist the idea of a rally starting without him as Grantaire pointed out it would, still it took about 20 minutes to get him in. Once they were moving there came the seemingly endless rally "pep talk", Grantaire's job was to challenge every point with such long not quite related rambling, of Enjolras wasn't talking he would drop off into the sleep he desperately needed. It was a well tested method, but only worked when there had been a lot of recent late nights, otherwise things got very heated. A debate between Enjolras and Grantaire was not something to be confined to a what is barely a five seater car. 

Grantaire smiled thinking about it, watching the sun flick in and out behind buildings and dance across Enjolras's freckles. Grantaire knew that face, he knew every part of it, he'd drawn it, dreamt it, he knew it. But he still looked now. The freckles clustered particularly around his eyes, even across the lids and into his brows. The few on his forehead were actually noticeable since it wasn't creased in concentration or frustration (two of Enjolras's most frequent emotions). They drifted out over prominent cheekbones and almost disappeared by the time then reached his full and beautiful lips. Grantaire skipped over Enjolras's lips quickly before he started to think what they'd feel against his. The freckles started back up across his jaw and trailed lightly passed the collar of his shirt and Grantaire didn't know anymore than that. He'd like to know. Not even in sex, Grantaire wasn't sure about that, but he'd like to lie down with Enjolras and commit him to memory, to draw him so he'll always know how beautiful Enjolras is and where his freckles go. He'd spend hours of his life making sure each one was immortalised. Just how many freckles dusted his skin? 

Grantaire snapped out of his daydream guiltily, Enjolras wouldn't want to pose for him or let Grantaire kiss him or... Grantaire shook himself a little, trying to chase out the good and the bad.  
"You know, you should try," Ferre commented quietly, giving Grantaire a reassuring smile in the mirror, "trust me." Grantaire rolled his eyes and give a disbelieving huff. "R, seriously, trust me."  
"You know best mama Ferre." Grantaire smiled back nervously, Ferre nodded his head and looked back to the road. Giving him as much privacy as the tiny car allowed. Grantaire took a deep breath and stretched his legs out a little, just enough that Enjolras's feet rested against the front of his calves. It wasn't much but it was a start and Grantaire smiled to himself, settling himself to sleep the rest of the journey and think how he might work up the courage to ask Enjolras to coffee. Just the two of them for once.

Courf took one headphone out and smiled at Ferre, watching Enjolras wake up a little in the mirror, he looked down and sleepily tucked his ankles in between Grantaire's legs. As Enjolras drifted back to sleep Courf grinned and half whispered, "Everyone owes me money, Ferre," giggling.  
"Shush, nothing's happened yet," came the reply, "leave them to work it out."  
"Yet," Courf mouthed back, slipping in his headphone and glancing at the two in the back seat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little longer in the car and they finally make it to the rally, enjolras gets a warm up rant in too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, exams and all that and sorry for my odd writing

Combeferre slammed on the breaks sending two of his passengers flying into the foot wells and the third catching against his seat belt.  
"Goddamnit Ferre!" Courf shouted trying to pull himself back onto his seat, quite unsuccessfully as he had fallen still curled up and had subsequently become wedged. "What the hell happened?"   
"I'm sorry guys," Combeferre replied, switching quickly between each of them, checking for injuries and trying to get the car moving around the sudden throng of people that had appeared in the road. "The counter protesters are out in force and one just either jumped or fell in front of the car."  
"You should have hit him!" Courf whined, still trying to pull his limbs into a position that could give him enough leverage to escape.   
"Are you okay?" Enjolras asked, reaching down to the footwell, holding out a hand to cup Grantaire's jaw. He swore he could feel his angel rubbing tiny circles with his thumb but he wasn't sure.   
"My head hurts but I think I'm okay, Enj, thanks though." He replied, smiling up at Enjolras. He pulled himself up into the seat, regretting the loss of Enjolras's touch as he moved, he managed to catch another radiant smile from him as Courf called from the front, singsong but dripping with sarcasm.   
"Oh Grantaire, ol' buddy, ol' pal of mine? A little help please!" He punctuated the final line by slapping the leather seat. Grantaire grinned and knelt against the central column, leaning through the gap between the front seats to grab Courf's outstretched hands. With several overly dramatic shrieks of pain and a lot of swearing, Grantaire managed to extract Courf from his carpeted prison. Grantaire returned to the back of the car but hovered uncertainly on the middle seat.  
"Are you okay?" Grantaire asked tentatively.  
"Oh of course, not the nicest way to wake up though. Just bruised from the seatbelt a little I'd have thought." A strange look passed across Enjolras's face as it clicked into place. "Seatbelt!" He repeated, both bewildered and incredulous as he quickly unclipped his own, pushing Grantaire suddenly from the middle of the car against Grantaire's own seat. He was painfully aware of one of Enjolras's hand pushing his shoulder firmly into the soft leather and bit back a gasp as he felt the angel's hand on his opposite thigh. Enjolras pressed down momentarily, using Grantaire's thigh as leverage to shuffle closer across the seat. Grantaire's eyes widened, able to do nothing but blink and gape slightly as a Enjolras's face appeared just a breath from his. He felt the hand leave his shoulder, tangling momentarily in his dark curls, he tensed and is thoughts drifted to how those beautiful hands would feel stroking through his hair properly. 

He'd always thought of hands as interesting, he had a sketchbook full of them. Courfeyrac's hands clasping his phone, holding a glass in toast to Grantaire's own, twirling his dark red curls around a finger. Combeferre's hand somehow daintily balancing an open seven hundred page book one handed, his hands curled around a friendly shoulder, the funny way he holds his favourite fountain pen. However, Enjolras's hands are beautiful. The way they move while he talks, dipping in a way that makes you now your head not only to follow them but with the gravity of the words they flow with. When Enjolras lifts his hands in triumph, your eyes follow them up, you want to lift your own arm up and pledge yourself to the cause. You feel it too, his passion, and it made Grantaire feel alive for the moments his hands might hold those. 

Grantaire's thoughts were cut short by the tug of taut fabric across his chest. Enjolras clicked the belt into place and looked into his eyes again, their noses brushing momentarily as Enjolras repeated once more,  
"Seatbelt." Smiling, he shuffle to his own side of the car, "Combeferre can you fix Courf too?"  
Combeferre held out his hand and Courf held out the already stretched belt for him to lock into place, meeting his eye in the mirror, one eyebrow raised to the scene they had both just witnessed in the back. Ferre answered with a quick shake of his head and moved his eyes back to the road.

Finally they manoeuvred the car past the crowds and into parking space. It was a tight squeeze and after a few minutes of trying to open the doors enough to squeeze out, Combeferre was forced to back out of the space and let everyone out before trying to park again. The three of them stood behind another parked car.   
"Woah," Courf whistled appreciatively. "Is this a Aston Martin? This is a nice car."  
"Lagonda DB9," Grantaire chimed in, looking over the bodywork. "It's a 2007 I'd say but it's a personalised number plate so I can't be sure, recent respray in custom colours."  
"I want one." Courf was almost drooling.  
"Excuse me," Enjolras's face was the familiar expression of an impending takedown. The look seemed to be focused on Courfeyrac more than Grantaire so he took a further step back to avoid any fallout hitting him too. "I don't think you quite understand the disgusting extent to which this car damages our ozone, fuel intake and pollution levels." Courf, very used to these lectures, had his lip jutting out like a church doorstep in a mockingly sad expression, stroking the car's bonnet like one would stroke a puppy. "This type Aston Martin produces nearly four hundred grams of carbon dioxide emissions per kilometre."  
Grantaire couldn't stop laughing at the sight of Courfeyrac's now trembling jaw and Enjolras's surprising knowledge of cars, or at least their fuel emissions. He pulled out his phone and stepped back to take a picture.   
He'd only snapped 3 when a loud car horn made him jump, almost dropping his phone in the process. Enjolras's head whipped around, spotting Grantaire further out in the road than he had thought and marched over.   
"I swear you're trying to die by car today. You could have been hit." Enjolras scolded, grabbing Grantaire's forearm and dragging him back over to where he had been scolding Courf.   
"There wasn't even a car coming," Grantaire argued, staring a little at Enjolras's hand. "It was some idiot a few cars down having a fight over a parking space." But Enjolras, not listening in the slightest, had already launched back into his car debate. Apparently he was very against Grantaire wandering off again, his hand remaining securely around his forearm. Grantaire smiled a little, blocking out the extremely one sided debate and started counting freckles. 

It had taken Combeferre several attempts to line up the car in a way that gave him enough room to open the drivers door, it would has taken him several attempts more if he hadn't have given up and climbed out of the sunroof. By the time he joined them, Grantaire had counted twenty seven freckles as far as to Enjolras's elbow, the owner of said elbow had still not run out of debate points, although it had shifted to a broader view on cars and Courf was now almost lying across the car bonnet, referring to it as "my baby". Combeferre rolled his eyes and started unpacking the boot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it

**Author's Note:**

> I like the little thing and I hope I can write more soon


End file.
